In the Forests of the Night
by xxToxicxLovestormxx
Summary: I consider the words as I say them. It is true- I am one of them. But not one- not Sasuke, not Orochimaru, not my father or my brother- controls me now. I could have used my strength to be like him. But I remember my humanity. I am one of them.!on hiatus!
1. Prologue

**A/n**: Sooo… This is kinda an impulsive fic.

To elaborate, I really shouldn't be doing this because I have like…Four other progects going on, but hey! This should go by quickly, seeing as how it's not _my _own plot.

Nope nope.

It's actually a book I read yesterday, and it was such an awesome story that I _had_ to rewrite it.

Enjoy?

**Disclaimer**: I do _not _own the plot-line, nor the characters. The plot belongs to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes while the characters are Kishimoto's. (I refuse to post these disclaimers in every chapter, so this is the only one you'll see.)

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"_Tiger! Tiger! Burning bright_

_In the forests of the night,_

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_

_In what distant deeps or skies_

_Burnt the fire of thine eyes?_

_On what wings dare he aspire?_

_What the hand dare seize the fire?_

_And what shoulder, and what art,_

_Could twist the sinews of thy heart?_

_And when thy heart began to beat,_

_What dread hand? and what dread feet?_

_What the hammer? what the chain?_

_In what furnace was thy brain?_

_What the anvil? what dread grasp?_

_Dare its deadly terrors clasp?_

_When the stars threw down their spears,_

_And watered heaven with their tears,_

_Did He smile His work to see?_

_Did He who make the Lamb, make thee?_

_Tiger! Tiger! Burning bright_

_In the forests of the night,_

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"_

The Tiger by William Blake

**Prologue: Now**

A cage of steel.

It is a cruel thing to do, to cage such a beautiful, passionate animal, as if it was only a dumb beast, but humans do so all too often. They even cage themselves, though their bars are made of society, not of steel.

The Bengal tiger is gold with black stripes through its fur, and it is the largest or the felines. The sign reads _"Panthera tigris tigris"_; it is simply a fancy name for tiger. I call this one Tora-she is my favorite animal in this zoo.

Tora walks towards me as I approach her cage. The minds of animals are different from the minds of humans, but I have spent much time with Tora, and we know each other very well. Though the thoughts of animals can rarely be translated into human thought, I understand her, and she understands me.

Such a beautiful creature should not be caged.

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**A/n**: So…What do you think?

This isn't it for today, I'll upload again later, most likely, so stick around.

Reviews make me smile. =)


	2. Chapter 1

**A/n**: I'm baaaaaaack!

And now, for chapter one of In the Forest of the Night.

Fair warning, these chapters aren't very long.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1: Now**

I relinquish my human form for that of a hawk as I leave the zoo, which has been closed for hours. The security guard fell asleep rather suddenly, as many do upon meeting my eyes, so there is no one to witness my departure.

I could bring myself to my home instantly with my mind, but I enjoy the sensation of flying. Of all the animals, the birds are perhaps the most free, as they are able to move through the air and there is so little that can stop their flight.

I land only once, to feed, and then arrive back at my house in Massachusetts close to sunrise.

As I return to human form, I catch a glimpse of my hazy reflection in my bedroom mirror. My hair is shoulder-blade length and is the color of faded violet. My eyes, like those of all my kind, became black when I died. My skin is icy pale, and in the reflection it looks like mist. Today I wear black jeans and a black T-shirt. I do not always wear black, but that was the color of my mood today.

I do not care for the new, quickly built towns humans are so fond of scraping up out of plaster and paint, so I live in Concord, Massachusetts, a town with history. Concord has an aura- one that says "This land is ours, and we will fight to keep it that way." The people who live here keep Concord as it was long ago, though cars have replaced the horse drawn carriages.

I live in one of Concord's original houses. Over the years I have made myself the long-lost daughter of several wealthy, elderly couples. That is how I "inheirited" the home I live in.

Though I have no living relations that I know of, it is not difficult to influence the thoughts- and paperwork- of the human world. When mortals do begin to question me too closely, I can easily move to another location. However, I make no human friends no matter how long I stay in an area, so my exsitence and disappearance are rarely noticed.

My home is near the center of Concord; the view from the front window is the Unitarian church, and the view from the back windows is a graveyard. Neither bothers me at all. Of course there are ghosts, but they are no harm besides the occasional startle or chill. They are usually too faint to be seen in the daylight.

My home has no coffin in it; I sleep in a bed, thank you. I do have blackout curtains, but only because I usually find myself sleeping during the day. I do not burn in the sunlight, but the bright noonday sun does hurt my eyes.

The vampire myths are so confused that it is easy to see they were created by mortals. Some myths are true: my reflection is faint, and older ones in my line have no reflection at all. As for other myths, there is little truth and many lies.

I do dislike the smell of garlic, but if your sense of smell was twenty times stronger than that of the average bloodhound, would you not dislike it as well? Holy water and crosses do not bother me- indeed, I have been to Christian services since I died, though I no longer look for solace in religion. I wear a silver ring set with a garnet stone, and the silver does not burn me. If someone hammered a stake through my heart I suppose I would die, but I do not play with humans, stakes, or mallets.

Since I am speaking about my kind, I might as well say something about myself. I was born to the name Risika Mitarashi in the year 1684, more than three hundred years ago.

The one who changed me named me Anko, and Anko I became, though I never asked what it meant. I continue to call myself Anko, even though I was transformed into what I am against my will.

My mind wanders back the road to my past, looking for a time Risika was still alive and Anko was not yet born.

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**A/n**: YAY chapter one!

-grins-

In the next chapter we get a peek into Anko's past, meet her brother, sister and father.

BUT FIRST!

I need suggestions for her twin brother's, younger sister's and father's names, send your choice to me in a reply.

JA!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: 1701**

There was ash on my pale skin from helping put out the fire. As my sister, Asuza, had been preparing the evening meal, flames had leapt from the hearth like arms reaching out to catch her. My twin brother, Inigasho had been standing across the room from the hearth. He was convinced this accident was his fault.

"Am I damned?" he asked, staring past me at the now cold hearth.

How did he want me to answer? I was only seventeen, a girl still, and certainly not a cleric. I knew nothing of damnation ad salvation that my twin brother did not know as well. Yet Inigasho was looking at me, his golden eyes heavy with worry and shame, as if I should know everything.

"You should ask these things of a preacher, not me," I answered.

"Tell a preacher what I see? Tell him that I can look into people's minds and that I can…"

He trailed off, but we both knew what the rest of the sentence was. For months Inigasho had been trying to hide his powers, which were just as undesired as the fire had been. Shaking with fear, he had told me everything. He could sometimes hear the thoughts of those around him, though he tried to block them out. If he concentrated on an object, he could make it move. And, he had added, if he stared into a fire, he could make it rise or fall. Despite his efforts to control these powers, sometimes they were stronger than he was.

Asuza had been cooking supper. Now she was at the doctor's with our papa, being treated for burns.

"It is witchcraft," Inigasho whispered, as if afraid to say the words anymore loudly. "How can I tell a clergyman that?"

Once again I could not answer him. Inigasho believed far more in the peril of the soul. Though we both said our prayers and went to church without fail, where I was skeptical, he was faithful. In truth, I was more afraid of the cold, commanding preachers than of the fires of Hell they threatened us with. If I had the powers my brother was discovering, I would fear the church even more.

"Maybe that is what happened to our mother," Inigasho said quietly. "Maybe I hurt her."

"Inigasho!" I gasped, horrified that my brother could think such a thing. "How can you blame yourself for mother's death? We were only babies!"

"If I could lose control and hurt Asuza when I am seventeen, how much easier would it have been for me to lose control as a child?"

I did not remember my mother, though Papa sometimes spoke about her, she had died only a few days after Inigasho and I was born. Her hair had been even lighter than my brother's and mine, but our eyes were exactly the same as hers had been. An exotic honey gold, our eyes were dangerous in their uniqueness. Had my family not been so well accepted in the community, our eyes might have singled us out for accusations of witchcraft.

"You are not even certain _Asuza's _injuries are your fault," I told Inigasho. Asuza was my papa's third child, born to his second wife; her mother had died only a year before of smallpox. "She was leaning too close to the fire, or maybe there was oil on the wood somehow. Even if you did cause it, it was not your fault."

"Witchcraft, Risika." Inigasho said softly. "How large a crime is that? I hurt someone, and I will not even go to the church to confess."

"It was not your fault!" Why did he insist on blaming himself for something he could not have prevented?

I saw my brother as a saint-he could hardly stand to watch Papa slaughter chicken for supper. I knew, even more surely than he did, that he could never intentionally hurt someone. "You never asked for these powers, Inigasho," I told him quietly. "You never signed the devil's book. You are trying to be forgiven for doing nothing wrong."

Papa returned with Asuza late that evening. Her arms had been bandaged, but the doctor had said there would be no permanent damage. Inigasho's guilt was still so strong-he made sure she rested, not using her hands, even though he had to do most of her work. As he and I cooked supper, he would occasionally catch my gaze, the question in his eyes pleading:_ Am I damned?_


	4. Chapter 3

(There will be a flashback in this chapter, it will be in _italics_)

**Chapter 3: Now**

Why am I thinking these things?

I find myself staring at the rose on my bed, so like one I was given nearly three hundred years ago. The aura around it is like a fingerprint: I can feel the strength and recognize the one who left it. I know him very well.

I have lived in this world for three hundred years, and yet I have broken one of its most basic rules. When I stopped last night to hunt after visiting Tora, I strayed into the territory of another.

_My prey was clearly lost. Though not native to New York City, she had thought she knew where she was going._

_The city at night is like a jungle. In the red glow of the sleeping city the streets and shadows twist like shadows, just like all the human -and not so human- predators that inhabit it._

_As the sun set, my prey had found herself alone in a dark area of town. The streetlights were broken, and there were more shadows than light. She was afraid. Lost. Alone. Weak. Easy prey._

_She turned onto another street, searching for something familiar. This street was darker than the one before, but not in a way a human would recognize. It was one of the many streets in America that belonged to my kind. These streets look almost normal, less dangerous, though perhaps a bit more deserted. Illusions can be so comforting. My prey was walking into a Venus flytrap. If I did not, someone was going to kill her as soon as she entered one of the bars, or set foot in a café, which had probably never served anything she would wish to drink._

_She seemed to relax slightly when she saw the Café Sangra. None of the windows were broken, no one was collapsed against the building, and the place was open. She started toward the café, and I followed silently._

_I sensed another human presence to my left and reached out with my mind to determine whether it was a threat. Walls went up in an instant. But they were weak, and I could tear through them if I tried. The human in question would feel it, though that did not matter to me._

"_This isn't you land," she told me. Though I could sense a bit of a vampiric aura around her, she was definitely human. She was blood bonded to a vampire and probably even working for one. She was not a threat, so I did not even bother looking into her mind._

"_This isn't your land," she told me again. I knew she could read my aura, but I was strong enough to dampen it, so to her I must have felt young. Even so, she was very foolish or she was working for someone very strong –possibly both. Since there are no more the five or six vampires on Earth that are stronger than I, I had little to fear. _

"_Get out," she ordered me._

"_No," I replied, continuing toward the Café Sangra._

_I heard her draw a gun, but she had no chance to aim before I was there. I twisted the gun sharply to the side, and she dropped it so that her wrist would not break. My prey's eyes went wide as she saw this, and she ran away blindly, darting around a corner. Stupid human._

_I stopped veiling my aura, and my attacker's eyes went wide as she felt its full strength._

"_Is that all you were armed with?" I scoffed. "You work for my kind –you must have more than one gun."_

_She went to draw a knife, but I grabbed it first and threw it into the street hard enough to slam an inch of steel into the ground. _

"_Who…Who are you?" she stammered, afraid._

"_Who do you think I am, child?"_

_I tend to avoid most of my kind, and destroy those who insist on approaching. Because of this, few recognize me. "Whose are you?" I snapped when she did not immediately respond. I received only a blank stare in return._

_I reached into her mind and tore out the information that I wanted. Those of my line are the strongest of the vampires when it comes to using our minds, and never have I found a reason to avoid exercising that power. When I found what I sought, I threw the human away from me._

_I swore as I realized who this human belonged to._

_Sasuke…He is one of the few vampires stronger than I. He is also the only one who would care about my presence in his land._

_I had been in this part of New York City before but had never encountered Sasuke or any of his servants here. Yet, according to this human, the place belonged to my enemy._

_My attacker smiled mockingly. Perhaps she thought I was afraid of his master. Indeed, I did fear Sasuke more than anything else on this Earth, but not enough to spare this girl. Sasuke would learn about my being on his territory on way or another and this child was bothering me. _

"_Karin," I crooned, finding her name as I read her mind. She relaxed slightly. I smiled, flashing fangs, and she paled to a chalky white. "You made me lose my prey."_

_Before she had a chance to run, I stepped toward her, placing a hand on the back of her neck. As I did so, I caught her eye, whispering a single word to her mind: _Sleep_. She went limp, and did not fight as my fangs pierced her throat. I could taste a trace of Sasuke's blood in the otherwise mortal elixir that ran through Karin's blood, and that taste made me shiver. _

_I did not bother disguising the kill. If Sasuke wished to claim that street, he could deal with the body and the human authorities. Either way, Sasuke would feel my aura and know I had been there; very few would kill one of Sasuke's servants on his own territory. _

_Though I feared Sasuke and dreaded what would happen should I confront him again, I refused to show that fear. That was the first time our paths had crossed in nearly three hundred years; I would not show that I still feared him._

Sasuke…Hatred flickers through me at the thought of him.

The long-stemmed rose lies on the scarlet comforter over my bed, its petals soft, perfectly formed, and black.

I pick up the rose, cutting my hand on a thorn, which is as sharp as a serpent's tooth. I look at the blood for a moment as the wound heals, reminded of a long time ago; then absently I lick it away. My mind returns to the time when I was still Risika Mitarashi –a time when I was given another black rose.

Then I did not lick the blood away.


End file.
